


Ethereal

by atlus



Series: Choice Words [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boyfriends, Cute, Dancing, Fluff, Humor, Lunch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlus/pseuds/atlus
Summary: e·the·re·al (adj.)- extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this worldex.As sweat trickled down Ten’s forehead, Johnny’s eyes couldn’t look away from his ethereal beauty.





	Ethereal

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Sorry I’ve been so slow with updates lately. During the summer, I had so much free time and now it’s next to none. Lol. I promise I’m trying my best though. Hopefully you guys enjoy what I can put out! -atlus

Johnny fell into his bed, sighing loudly at the immediate comfort it brought him. After practicing for hours upon hours, specifically the Cherry Bomb choreography that made him want to cut off his own legs, he was finally done. Surprisingly enough, it was only two in the afternoon. That gave him all the time in the world to nap before he had to actually go to bed later on. His eyes fluttered shut at the thought.

A single snore escaped from his mouth before his phone vibrated, causing him to groan. How could anyone be texting him? Surely everyone else was peacefully passed out. 

> **[ten]:** are you busy???

_Dammit._

Johnny stared at the text for a solid minute without a sound. He wasn’t busy, of course, but what would he be getting roped into if he admitted to it? The mystery scared him, but he couldn’t lie to Ten.

> **[johnny]:** no, what’s up?

He sat his phone down next to his face and closed his eyes again, momentarily imagining the worst case scenario. What if he needed someone to drive him across the country to dig up buried treasure? What if he wanted to contact his dead relative and needed a willing volunteer to become a vessel? What if he wanted to make out? Johnny didn’t have the energy for all of that.

> **[ten]:** would you mind bringing me lunch?
> 
> **[ten]:** i didn’t have time for breakfast and practice is running over and i might starve
> 
> **[ten]:** like to death

As much as Johnny had no desire to drag himself out of bed, anything involving Ten’s health was unavoidable. He loved the younger’s work ethic, but one day he was sure he’d work himself to death. At least he asked for lunch at all; on most occasions, Ten would pretend his lack of meals wasn’t a problem.

Johnny rose from the bed and grabbed his keys, heading out the door while texting Ten back.

> **[johnny]:** i’ll be right there

* * *

The way Johnny walked into the studio was probably suspect in itself; his hair was a mess, his clothes were disheveled, and he carried giant paper bags at either of his sides. It didn’t really matter what he looked like, considering he was already done for the day, but he didn’t like the possibility of people worrying about him just because he looked a bit out of it.

He headed toward the practice room hallway, where the noticed Taeyong and Doyoung were.

“Why are you guys still here?” Johnny asked, looking them over. They were each just as messy as him if not worse.

Doyoung blinked his tired eyes. “We could ask you the same question,” he retorted.

The elder lifted the bags at his sides. “Bringing lunch to the baby,” he explained.

Taeyong smiles sheepishly. “Cute,” he muttered before starting to head off, “see you back at the dorm later.”

“If he ever wakes up again,” Doyoung added, following him. Johnny waved to the two of them before heading down the hallway

Almost every room was shut. Apparently, it was a busy day at the office. He peeked into the windows for a few seconds each, not wanting to bother anyone or make them uncomfortable; he understood the odd feeling that came with small audiences like that.

Johnny’s head shot up to the sound of a door opening at the end of the hallway. A man dressed in black came out, a baseball cap covering his face. Ten’s voice suddenly reached his eardrums; not his _real_ voice, simply over a loudspeaker. ‘Dream in a Dream’ echoed through the corridor for a second more before the practice room door shut, silencing the song.

The man exchanged a polite nod with Johnny as he passed by. He fast walked to the end of the hall, ready to open the door, but he stopped in his tracks at the window. He could avoid staring at other people, but his boyfriend was something else; the way Ten danced seemed unreal. His movements were delicate, yet precise. It was as if he would start floating at any moment.

As sweat trickled down Ten’s forehead, Johnny’s eyes couldn’t look away from his ethereal beauty.

However, the dance was cut short when Ten threw his hat on the ground and started banging his head into the mirror. Johnny figured that was his cue to finally go inside.

“What did I miss?” Johnny asked, a sad grin on his face.

Ten slowly turned. Johnny could tell he was exhausted; he was usually much more excited to see him. His small arms reached out and his hands made a grabbing motion. Johnny sat the bags of food on the floor and enveloped his boyfriend in a comforting hug.

“I’m so tired,” Ten’s voice was muffled by the elder’s shirt.

Johnny ruffled his hair in attempt to cheer him up. “I know, baby,” he cooed, “but you’ve got to eat first. I brought your favorite.”

Ten tilted his head, making his eyes visible; they were lit up with hope. “Really?” Johnny nodded. The younger let go of him and ran to the bags, immediately plopping onto the floor. He began rifling through them without hesitation.

Johnny chuckled at Ten, then turned his head to the remaining dancers in the room. They paced around, unsure of what to do.

“You can go,” he said, causing them to let out sighs of relief, “he’s definitely done for the day.”

Ten raised an eyebrow. “What? I didn’t say-“ he was interrupted by the practice room door slamming. “Why did you say that?”

Johnny sat down and carefully removed his own food from the bag. He had gotten French toast, while he provided Ten with quite a few waffles. “You shouldn’t work yourself so hard. Take a break and come home.” He stuck his hand in the bag and felt around. “Did you take all of the syrup?”

Ten looked down guiltily as he poured the last container on his tower of waffles. “Sorry…” he mumbled. However, Johnny couldn’t help but laugh when he started going at the breakfast like a wild animal right after his apology. He watched him closely, almost _too_ closely.

“What?” The younger asked with a slight attitude, freezing mid-bite to give Johnny a look.

“Nothing,” he replied, “you’re just cute.” He ate his French toast casually while Ten became a small mess in front of him.

“Oh, hush,” Ten muttered, though he couldn’t hold back a smile, “I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re just being nice.” He ate slower, a sudden rush of nervousness hitting him right in the stomach.

Johnny grinned. “What can I say? I _do_ love a working man.”

Ten snorted so hard he nearly choked on his waffle. He smacked his boyfriend in the arm. “Seo Youngho, never speak to me again!”

The elder pushed his food to the side and began crawling toward him. “You know you love it,” he almost growled, a smirk starting to cross his lips. Ten covered his mouth to keep from giggling while he attempted to push himself away.

“Stop!” He yelled, a flood of laughter following as Johnny tackled him to the ground, “Stop, stop! I just want my waffles!”

“In a minute,” Johnny replied, pinning him to floor, “I think you should try some French toast first.”

It was one thing for Johnny to notice Ten’s ethereal beauty from afar; it was another for him to feel it in a kiss.


End file.
